


Mornings with You

by orphan_account



Series: The Man Who Smelled of Galbana Lilies [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Body Worship, Consensual Somnophilia, Did I mention Shameless Smut, Domestic Bliss, Eventual Fluff, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Height Differences, Identity Issues, Identity Porn, M/M, Morning Routines, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Power Bottom, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Secret Identity, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, Sleepy Kisses, Sleepy Sex, Somnophilia, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7264990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a game between them, seeing who wakes up first. Mornings being the only time they're honest with their hearts and bodies. Or at least, that's what Vaan thinks. Why else would Novus be such a different man during the early hours of the day? It couldn't be because Vaan's different too. Open about what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mornings with Vaan

**Author's Note:**

> A set of fluffy and smutty Vaan/Vayne pieces I'd promised years ago. Birthday fic to myself. 
> 
> Let's compare and contrast my smut-writing skills!

Vaan wakes with the sun, gray eyes blinking out the last effects of another long humid night.

Hell, he doesn't know why he keeps on doing it. Associating the sun with the ugly morning all the way down here in Lowtown. Some part of him keeps on getting its kicks in. Making him remember what it used to be like. Sunlight in the morning. Warm golden light waking him gently when he was a child.

And of course, that just kept the pity party going.

He used to have a house. He used to have parents. He used to have a life before the plague that killed almost everyone he knew. And then the war that finished the job. Nobody now. Just him and Penelo. No mom and dad. No brother who went to war and came back a broken thing to bury.

Vaan blinks it all away. Those things. Those 'used to be'.

It's all he can do.

Push it aside and embrace the day.

Vaan rubs his face. Yawns loudly.

Novus sleeps. He looks cute like that.

All sprawled out on his side of the bed, dark wild curls a splash against his pale face. Still sleeps with a thin white sheet even though he sweats, needing something for his scarred fists to hold in the night.

Round this time of year with summer cooking the desert and then some, nobody uses sheets in Rabanastre. But you wouldn't know if you asked Novus. The odd one out with his un-placeable accent and elegant posturing you'd be surprised to find from a soldier living in Lowtown. Novus is good. Good enough to fool everybody except the thief he is sleeping with. He's a foreigner but at least he's not one of those snooty dickish foreigners that bought up all the houses in the town ward. 

Dicks. Imperials. Archadians. Same thing.

Vaan watches Novus. The man's strong and lean frame rising up and down. Soft cheeks a flushed red from the heat. Novus hasn't gotten used to it and Vaan doubts he ever will. His eyes wanders down the man's lilac button shirt and velvety black undergarments.

Outside, Novus looks like your common ex-soldier. Fair skin hidden under rags. Fists harder than the tender skin underneath. Inside, he's like a prince. Wearing expensive shit that Vaan wouldn't dream of getting. Hell, you couldn't even get the dye for lilac without running off to Bhujerba and waiting three lifetimes for the stuff to come from Rozarria .

And of course, the Imperials will nick your stuff. Cause nobody is really supposed to be trading with Rozarria this side of the continent.

Vaan perches over his lover, his sleeping Novus. He kisses. Softly. Lightly. Like a bird upon a dozing cat, he's nimble and swift. His pink lips brings more red to Novus's gentle face. The man still off into la-la land, he smiles in his sleep. What could he be dreaming about? From Novus' cheeks to his chin, Vaan claims it. Sweetly. Silently. Then to Novus' lips, thin and plush. The bottom lip so tender and plump for Vaan to caress with his mouth. He smooches wetly, using a bit of tongue to ease his way in.

Novus sleepily opens his mouth.

Blue eyes rising a crack, foggy and blank. Vaan smiles with his lips, stops, waits for Novus to fall right back into his daze. Then continues, kissing his lover. Sleeping Novus is quite a different kisser than Awake Novus. He's actually rougher. Vaan pushes into Novus' mouth and the man responds, their tongues clashing. Vaan likes him rough.

The young thief sighs into the kiss, loving how Novus took over. The man dominating his tight mouth and slowly but steadily trying to pull Vaan closer. Weak hands moving to grasp onto Vaan's bare thighs. Thumbs brushing the tanned skin.

Vaan lets Novus brings their chests together for a little bit. Their lewd kissing audible and wet, saliva glossy and spreading. Then he takes control, breaking their lip lock. Novus whines at him. A sweet husky demand. Something he certainly doesn't do when fully awake. Oh, if only he knew the sounds that Vaan could weave out of him. The pants, the grunts, the gasps and the moans. Vaan rubs his nose against him, nuzzling Novus.

The man leans into it, temporary pleased.

Vaan moves down the man's body. Unbuttoning Novus' shirt with his neat teeth. With each button out of the way, he swipes the exposed skin with his warm tongue. Mmm, Novus shivers. Little quakes spreading out his rock-hard chest and waist. Abs and pecs toned and perfect as Vaan licks between them.

Once all the buttons are out of the way, Vaan dotes on the man's torso. Slides his tongue around a ring of pliant flesh and pink nipples. Novus sloppily lifts up a knee. Attempting to knock Vaan off his chest, a baby when it came to having his nubs played with.

With his free hand, Vaan rubs the wobbly knee. Massaging it until it relaxed, limply laying back on the mattress.

The young thief goes back to the nipples, his fine tongue caressing the tender flesh.

Novus rocks under him. His thickness pushing up and rubbing against Vaan, a silent request he bring his mouth somewhere more useful. Novus oughta like his nipples more. They're sensitive and peachy-pink, little things that Vaan can't keep out of his mouth. In no time at all, they grown hard and stiff. The skin around them tight and coiled, teased skin now a sharp galbana red. Then with his teeth, Vaan nips. Bites gently. Leaving teeth impressions into the worked skin.

And here it comes.

Novus' mouth opens and a beautiful, beautiful moan comes out.

It sends a shiver of pleasure down Vaan's spine. Fuck! Novus unrestrained was something of a sight. His moan is deep and filthy, summoning goosebumps to dot Vaan's sun-kissed arms and legs. Like a cry of a direwolf signaling the hunt, thick and sharp and inspiring awe. Vaan's cock stiffly salutes at the call, his cock-head already dribbling precum at just the slightly switch of breath becoming beckoning.

It's a shame Novus is embarrassed of it. What he sounds like. Shouldn't be. It's beautiful. Pretty, even.

Moving down south, Vaan brushes against the trail of thin brown hairs leading into Novus' shorts. He sniffs them, loving the unique smell of his lover. Masculine and earthy with a sweet lingering flower-like aroma that sticks to him after a shower. Sometimes jasmine. Sometimes citrus. But what he smells the most like is of galbana lilies. Intoxicating and bewitching. Vaan can't stay away.

Novus, a flower in hume form. That's what he has to be. To smell this perfect, this rich and tempting.

Vaan knees open Novus's legs and peels off the man's underwear. Spirits, Vaan's can't get over how different Novus' looks to him. Taller. Paler. Skin that bruised differently. Skin that blushed strangely. Vaan wants every part of him. His long slender legs. His perfect chest. His curly hair. And since they come in a set, Vaan will have to take the whole man.

Freed, Novus' thick and sizable cock twitches in the air. The heedy aroma of musk and flowers richer now. The only fan in the flat blowing the perfect mix whichever way. Driving Vaan into a feverish pitch of want and need. His cock's even harder. His hole feels empty, clenches for something to get inside. Fucking him into the bed until the neighbors three floors down decides to get the Imperial guards involved.

Can't be now. Bad idea, he knows.

Going crazy on that cock would only wake Novus up and ruin the morning fun.

Vaan brings his lips to rest against Novus' pinkish shaft. Two balls swollen and fattening up with seed the longer Vaan just breathes on it. His hot breath making the cock sway and throb. The young thief kisses the shaft, brief lazy kisses to fatten it up into ripe hardness. There we go. Novus' cock is engorged, thick as can be.

How Vaan gets it into his perky ass every morning, he will never know.

He licks, lubing up the shaft with his spit. He kisses, making sure the cock is ready for him at all times. Vaan swivels his tongue around the crown of the cock, pink meeting the pinker mottled skin of the cock-head. He plays with the skin there, loving how Novus can't stop his cries. They've come and gone. Sweet nothings he'd bite down on if he was awake. Obscene murmurs he'd moan into Vaan's shoulder. Not loud. Not to be ever heard. But Vaan hears. Vaan takes. He's a thief and he wants all of Novus.

Wet enough, Vaan pops the cock-head in.

Right into his mouth, the cock crown oozes pre-cum. White creamy cum a delightful morning snack. Vaan hums against the cock-head, trying to ready himself for what happens next. He breathes in his nose, a steadying move, and takes more of the massive shaft in. Novus' hips rock up, unintentionally plunging to the hilt inside Vaan's willing mouth. Fuck! The young thief always forgets that Novus does that. Just reams his cock right into Vaan like he was a fucking glory hole.

And shit, he can't keep it quiet.

Vaan moans, squirming and smiling with that fat cock between his lips. Damn, why couldn't Novus be like this all the time. Not wish-washy like Vaan was a delicate flower that he was afraid to touch. The young thief chokes around Novus' girth, wheezing as he shakes in ecstasy. Fucking Novus. The way he just- Vaan bobs up and down, his head working the shaft. Appreciation is better than thinking out why he likes when rough and hard and damn it, Novus!

Vaan can't think much of anything anymore.

His mouth's full of yummy fucking cock that's sapping all his brain power.

The man sleepily thrusts up, fucking Vaan's face like a beast. Both hands braced on each side of Novus, Vaan struggles to keep himself from losing control. His own cock hanging between his legs like a neglected mutt, clawing up against him as his lust reaches a new height.

Their cheap bed springs creak along with the rest of Novus' crappy apartment, sounds of sex and squelching echoing all over the place.

Vaan takes Novus' cock like a champ. Taking in those insane thrusts and tightening his mouth around that glorious shaft. When the man's hips start to shake, tremors a sure sign of an impending orgasm, Vaan pulls out. Can't have Novus wasting his load on just his mouth. Vaan sits up and gets off the bed. Takes a minute to enjoy his work. Novus blushing like a virgin, sweat a shiny sheen on his arching body. Still a thrusting like Vaan was still on.

The young thief walks over to Novus' fancy-ass dresser and takes out the lube.

Two fingers scooping a hearty amount of the rose-scented stuff, Vaan bends over and readies his ass. He finds fingering himself to be really awkward and something only Novus likes to watch. Liking him fumble around and observe how Vaan really sucks prepping himself cause he gets distracted prodding his prostate. Three fingers in now, he stretches and eases open his ring of muscles. Slicking his tight pucker while extra lube makes itself real useful by running down his toned ass-cheeks and thighs.

Now ready for some ass-loving, Vaan ambles back to the bed. Novus is still out of it. Sleeping.

The young thief takes his time in getting in position. His hips spread, damp ass brushing the needy cock. The extra lube rubs onto the shaft. Aiding his idle grind, the cock slides in and out of his chunky cheeks. The sound of it so, so nasty.

Vaan can't keep the grin off his face. Shit, he wouldn't be able to look any of Novus' neighbors in the eye for weeks after this. Knowing they heard every peep and creak. Might have heard Novus himself. And that was another week added on. His pucker brushes directly on Novus' cock-head. Enticing it to thrust just a little further, just a little to the left.

Novus can't stand the teasing.

He grips up Vaan and forces him to stay in one place. The thief bites his lips, savoring the pure and honest intent. Damn, couldn't Novus be like this all of the time? The man pushs up and Vaan is impaled on his grand glorious cock. Spirits, he can't- Vaan outright screams, his cries bellowing out to everyone who's up in the early hours. He throws back his head, arching as that cock keeps on plunging in. Novus, hard on his hips, yanks Vaan down, forcing him to bottom out on a practically endless length.

Vaan's hips shake and seize, unable to ward away the overwhelming pleasure. He stutters out a cry, shuddering as the cock thrums inside of him. Vaan swallows a breath. Blinks back the dewy tears. Shit. He gets into motion. Slides himself up and then lands back down.

The force of it fucks Novus awake, that dazed face coming into clear aroused confusion. Beautiful. Vaan loves seeing that. Loves seeing how Novus fully feels his intimate touch all at once. His kisses, his played with nipples, his sucked on cock. The man tries to get up, his first instinct, and Vaan pushes him down. In charge. Vaan rolls his hips, bouncing up and down. And Novus gives. His submission just as good to witness as much as domination.

All Novus can do is follow the beat, fuck upwards to sate the sex dream on top of him. Because. Spoiler. His lover tends to forget the mornings when Vaan is riding him.

Some people just can't function properly if they get an orgasm early in the day.

Novus's cock brushes against against Vaan's inner walls and bundles of quivering nerves. He's a goddamn mess. Moaning and groaning while Novus pistions in and out of him. There. Novus hits his prostate and Vaan nearly sees white. Too close.

The young thief slows his decent and slaps Novus' thighs to stop.

Vaan panting all the while, gulping air and more as he rearranges them. Now in Novus' lap, strong hands squeezing his ass, they fuck once more. Flesh slapping flesh, skin against skin, they hold each other. Vaan's cock, trapped, claps against Novus. The pain and pleasure thrilling the young thief on. Vaan wraps his arms around the man's shoulders, nails digging in. Novus grunts against him, his thrusts deep and diligent.

His prostate is stroked and claimed, unadulterated bliss running through Vaan's wiry frame.

Not long. Not long now before Vaan cums. Firing a shot of white that splatters up and on their chests. He cries out, reedy and broken. His everything alight and pleasured, the surge of his orgasm rattling through his battered body. Hips trembling, thighs jerking, feet curling. White. Shit, all he sees is white and stars and Novus and everything being alright this early, early morning in bed.

Satisfied, Vaan slumps against Novus. Afterglow already making him as limp as a kitten.

The man is still thrusting in now but his shaft is twitching. More pre-cum, warm and runny, painting Vaan's inner walls. He's close. Sighing, Vaan clenches. Helping Novus along. After a few more frantic strokes, his lover releases. He cums hard and fast into Vaan's welcoming hole. So much cum that a little oozes out the rim of his stuffed asshole. Dribbing down to make a mess of Novus' favorite sheet.

They breathe together. One breath in. One breath out. Novus kisses him. Vaan kisses back.

The morning is perfect. Novus slides down to the mattress and Vaan follows, still entangled and still with a softening cock inside. Around them, Lowtown stirs into action. Storefronts opening. People talking. Crowds coming in from the upstairs.

Vaan moves his head slight.

There's a snore. Novus is fast asleep.

The young thief rolls his eyes and kisses him. Softly. Sweetly.

Novus can have his rest.

Vaan will have him all over again next morning.


	2. Mornings with Vayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galbana isn't one for the simple pleasures a quiet morn brings. No cuddling. No dozing. No laying a little longer in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Vayne takes forever. And none of this was in the outline. I hate writing Vayne.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. I take a month to write Vayne-centric chapters, apparently.

Morn.

It is rare when Vayne wakes first.

His eyes open. Idle with sleep. Expecting to see his lover, Galbana, bounding around the tiny flat with the usual morning merriment he's come to grow fond of. The thief is lively in the early hours. A trait Vayne has sadly been born without.

Fresh-faced and wide-eyed, his lover can't stay still. A true shame.

Galbana isn't one for the simple pleasures a quiet morn brings. No cuddling. No dozing. No laying a little longer in bed. He's eager for other things. Hushed and shushed morning sex. A game for the pair. Only one rule. Who can avoid being the reason for why the guard decided to grace their door this time? Tight showers shared. And so the second round begins. Wet sex and sore shoulders, flesh sliding and grinding. Then breakfast to be held over a quaint cracked table. Simple. Wonderful. And then he's off.

Gone to steal, Vayne supposes, or to make himself busy until Vayne comes home.

That word again. Home. Frequent, Vayne uses it.

And the man finds it strange how easily that this plain abode has become home in his mind.

A simple apartment. Steel walls. Stone floors. A box-cut window with a single fan spinning tirelessly. It's cheap. Unremarkable. And Vayne doesn't much like it much. Military living upon the battlefield is a step up from this narrow cage. The apartment manger charging him a small fortune to rent. Rates quite illegal if Vayne is to take this to the upper courts of Archadia. But of course, he didn't think like this before Galbana. It used to be suitable. It used to be a fine place to rest his head a night.

And now it isn't. Not with Galbana on his mind.

Vayne would rather they have much more comfortable arrangements. A lavish bedspread. A opulent trio of ivory-white mattresses. Each one stuffed with feathers and magic. Not the unwieldy yellowed thing they lay on. Straw and rope that ache him during the long night. Not the thin sheets he impulsively buys. Threadbare and plain. Drab colors that cannot mask the meagerness of his situation.

At home, giving this to a lover, worthless walls and a worthless home, he wouldn't dare.

A insult. A dismissal.

But Galbana doesn't share the same sentiments.

The sparse furniture. The stale air. The thin walls. He's fine with it all. A mess when he comes in, Galbana always leaves something behind. A trinket. A shirt. A pair of slacks. Things to decorate the place with his presence. He does not know that Vayne is born to more. Could provide more. He's- He's a strange thing and Vayne can't stop wondering on how his strange mind works.

Vayne moves his head slightly, his dark mane a mess in the morning.

Black curving strands spilling whichever way. Troublesome. He wishes he kept a hair tie nearby.

Vayne tolerates a curl or two as he laps up the sight in front of his eyes. Galbana. Fetching on a normal day but enthralling on this morn. The thief dreams. His breath is deep. His sigh is light. Gentle tan cheeks aglow. Lips a sleepy charming pout. His blond wild locks catch on the dim light the lanterns provide. The only bulb in their flat long since blown out.

A shadow of a grin grows on Vayne's lips.

He inches closer, the gossiping bed springs giving his intentions away. Galbana, sweet as a hare, stiffens. His next breath is a sharp inhale. Vayne's next move is a wary stillness. And Galbana sleeps once more. A sleepy sigh a sign to keep moving forward. Soon, Vayne's fingers cross the small divide. And with them comes his arms, scooping up his lovely prize and bring him near.

Chest flush against each other, but with Galbana two heads shorter, they make a odd spooning pair.

The thief tucks neatly under Vayne's chin.

Vayne has a fondness for cuddling and snuggling. Something he isn't reserved about when Galbana is far too tuckered out to put up a fight. He rests his nose into the theif's unkept locks. Smelling deeply the scent of Galbana. Green. Grassy. It brings to mind of the wilds winds that oft sweep over the Estersand. A bit of metal clings to him too. Lowtown. A city of rusting iron and stewing water. And then of tiny nooks and wooden crates. And sometimes bread. And sometimes not.

The man enjoys himself. Rubbing his face deeper in as Galbana becomes comfortable in his hold.

His hands roam Galbana's back, thumbs massaging the tightened flesh there.

It is foolish to feel unsatisfied with his temporary arrangements. The necessary apartment. The necessary secrecy. He is undercover after all. Had he met Galbana under different circumstances, there would be no doubt that Vayne would shower him in treasures and luxuries.

The thief sorely needs it. He's thinner than he should be.

Galbana and his boasting, crowing and sheer carelessness with himself- It makes Novus worry. He's seen this kind of disposition before. His servants. His teachers. His elder brothers. Warning signs come and go. Glassy-eyed and empty smiles, they make themselves comfortable in Old Archades where the poor dwell. And he refuses to think more on that.

It is not Vayne's problem. It is Novus' troubles.

And- And, well, it makes Novus worry, he who is with a lover. He who cannot provide with the best of his ability for Galbana. He who cannot unburden the one who is merry and light.

Galbana. Lovely Galbana.

The thief is a thing of masks. Vixen. Vice. He flaunts them around Vayne. Cautious. Clever. Daring him to reach out and peel each of the distracting personas away. Masks he wouldn't need if Vayne could provide him with something more- And who is he to think of such meaningless drivel? Galbana and all of Dalmasca are casualties of Vayne's ambitions. He cannot make up for them. He cannot pretend to separate himself from all this.

And even with Galbana, Vayne's need to secure his gains eats at him. A wonderful feeling, it is.

But enough of that, his lover is yet to wake.

Vayne kisses Galbana's neck, enjoying the light shivers that follow.

He explores every inch of the tanned skin and the dips in the thief's collarbone.

From behind, he can feel Galbana's hands dig into his back. Short nails clawing against his night shirt and lifting up the fabric to get at warmth. More heat that mysteriously doesn't bring sweat to the thief's brow. Galbana is curious in that regard. He likes the heat of Rabanastre and Lowtown. He likes the warmth of two bodies in the long night, even in this boiling wraith that has fallen on the kingdom as of late.

The man kisses and touch his way down, teasing Galbana all the while.

Even in sleep, the thief is straight to business, cocking open his legs and presenting his tight hole for his viewing pleasure. Vayne ignores the gesture for now, focusing instead on Galbana's slender hips. He lifts a leg over his shoulder and nibbles lightly on the trembling thigh. The thief weakly thrusts at him but Vayne stops, waiting for the reflex to still.

Then the man continues, pressing lips and biting on the lovely skin.

Soon Galbana's thighs are marked in love bites, the mix of pain and pleasure causing the thief to lock his ankles around Vayne. Amusing. Vayne could tickle the legs off but he allows Galbana to stay. No matter what thief says, crude and careless, it's what he does that inspires Vayne to persist in this folly.

Galbana's eyes open, gray and drifting.

The thief isn't fully aware of his setting yet but he sits up, groggy and listless. Vayne smiles and cups Galbana's face. There something both innocent and terrible in how Galbana rests into his palm. Vayne's thumb brushes over the fresh flushed cheeks and the soft grin growing there. His finger runs over Galbana's lips, so tender and perfect. He kisses the thief. A impulse. A reflex. Their lips meet briefly and Vayne pushes into Galbana's mouth. Their tongues meet briefly. And then they kiss, truly.

Compared to all the kisses they have in the day and night, this one is simple, tame.

And yet, he loves these sort of kisses. They part, lips red. They meet, lips redder. There's no battle or clashing to have. No fighting of ideals and conquest. It is mere physicality. Mere affection. And yet- Vayne kisses Galbana, silky clear strings of saliva binding their forms before breaking. And then he stops, breathless. The thief rubs against him, still just as feisty and impatient as ever.

Vayne allows himself to have a unrefined snort and untangles himself from Galbana's legs.

He doesn't leave for long. Only to acquire a jar of lube and rags for cleaning after. Vayne takes one of Galbana's fingers and brings the digit into his mouth. He sucks on it, getting the finger nice and wet. The thief squirms at this, his jutting knees attempting to lock once more around Vayne's muscular frame. With his free hand, the man pushes down Galbana's knee. He continues sucking until satisfied and then brings the finger down to thief's own hole.

Somewhere in that dreamy daze, Galbana gets the hint.

The thief rearranges himself for Vayne, awkwardly trying to use the wall as a headboard as he reclines. As Galbana likes to describe it, he's in prime “finger-fucking” position. Vayne opens the jar and brings to the thief's readied finger. Galbana sinks his finger in but his movements are slow and uncertain. The smile that had been on his face is now hidden under bruised lips. Ah, so Vayne couldn't get through this particular morn without using his voice. Alright then.

“Galbana,” he orders, “Prepare yourself for me.”

The words Vayne says now in this morn burn his tongue. The words aren't forbidden. The intonation is. More Archadian than he would ever allow outside these walls. There's a difference in the way he speaks in Rabanastre. Novus shoves aside his formal speech and noble inflection for the sake of his mission. But now Vayne revels in it, letting his tone sharpen those simple words into power and purpose. It in these rare mornings that the man doesn't need pretend to be two different people.

It is these morns where Novus is not present and only Vayne is here.

Galbana stiffens at his words. His back straightens and his hardening cock twitches at the command. He then becomes bashful, something he never is anytime else. Galbana ducks into his silvery lock, hiding his eyes from view but not his lips biting even harder. He shuts his legs, a knowing act of disobedience. It doesn't tempt Vayne's ire. He is patient. He is always patient. Snakelike, the Judges think of him. Traitorous, the senate. He banishes those comparisons away. They have no place here.  

“Galbana,” he repeats, “Prepare yourself for me.”

The thief breaks. He doesn't open his legs, he's too Galbana-like to give in so easily. But he breaks all the same. His cock rigid, stiffly saluting between the thin divide of Galbana's quaking legs. He likes it, Vayne commanding him. The man wonder if he told the thief to cum, would he do so on the spot. His legs flexed open, thighs shaking as he cums for Vayne and Vayne alone. So unsteady they'll give the moment Galbana is suitably distracted. But Vayne is sure of himself this morn. Galbana will surrender of his own volition. Even if it requires a name of another.

“Vaan,” he says, “Prepare yourself for me.”

Galbana flinches, the mask sliding off. But Vaan sighs in relief. He always does. What does he dream when he hears the voice of the man who conquered his city? Why does he relax instead of snapping to attention, attacking the invader he has bedded. Vayne won't pretend to understand the need of two names in the thief's regard. Galbana is flippant and frank. He's simple in his desires and yet he attracts all of Novus' affection and loyalty. But Vaan is a sharp departure in both mood and temperament. It is this part of Galbana that worries Novus. It is this part of Vaan that attracts Vayne.

Vaan submits.

And there's something about that- Something so straightforward and unsullied in this action that Vayne can't stand it. He indulges in it. He revels in it. Galbana doesn't remember the mornings when Vayne wakes first. If you ask him in person, he'd say Vayne never wakes first.

But that isn't true. Not now. Not today.

The thief scoops more lube and preps himself. One finger goes in. Then two. Slick and glossy in the dim room. Vayne wonders if Galbana knows that Novus knows his other name. Then he thinks little of it. Vaan knows and he's sweet to the man who looks like his Novus. The thief's hole audibly squelches, lube coating the tender hole.

Vayne watches.

Vaan enters himself further. A third finger. He pants, low and light. His fingering is much to be desired. It is sloppy and leisurely. The rim of his pucker forces more lube out than in. A mess it makes on the few sheets they make on the bed. It is a gratifying sight. Vaan has this worn feel to him when he's in a daze like this one. This is his true character. Drained. Fatigued. Here he is at his most honest. Beaten down not by Vayne nor by his situation but something more insidious. Something kin to the sins that drive the man ever forward.

And it appeals to Vayne because he can understand that feeling. It's so plain and coarse that it shines.

Vayne catches Vaan's wrist and helps along. He glides the fingers in and out, helping them curve and hooks inside the ring of muscles. Finally, Vaan is loose and ready. Vayne touches the hole and then the perky ass-cheeks that he has yet to attend to. He rubs them lightly, a prelude to the conversation they would have. Vaan often speaks in the morn. Galbana often doesn't remember.

The man decides to say something meaningless. Galbana isn't here to hear.

“I love you.” the confession rolls off his tongue like a proclamation. Novus is the one who is allowed to say such foolish things like that. Such banal words have no place on Vayne's mouth. His use of them is indeed meaningless but is not without heart say he says them. In another life, they might have meant more than just a waste of hot air. “But that doesn't matter to you, does it?” That, however, he doesn't mean to say.

“Shut up.” Vaan replies, thick with sleep. “It doesn't matter to you, either. I didn't want this.”

“What is this?” Vayne prods. He already knows the answer. The conversation often goes into circles.

“You.”

What an elegant response. A good turn deserves another.

“You what?”

Vaan stutters.

“You- _too_.”

“You too, what?”

“Shut up.”

And that is the extent of Vaan's conversing skills.

That's fine. It's always fine. Vaan doesn't need to talk to listen Vayne's confessions.

Vayne perches himself above the thief, lining himself up right. The tip of his cock grazes the sleek hole, letting the run-off of the wasted lube slick him up. He'll need more for penetration but for now he lets himself tease Vaan. His thick cock-head stretching the entrance with a slight press. Vaan sharply inhales, his knees shaking as Vayne lets him writhe in a unsatisfied state. The noises he makes are divine, they serenade Vayne's ears. The imploring huffs and pants, gasps and grunts.

“My name is Vayne Carudas Solidor. I am many things to many people.” the man admits. “And I love you.”

Vaan blinks at him.

“Shut up.”

Vayne presses on.

“I orchestrated the events of Nabradia and then the eventual conquest of its sister kingdom Dalmasca. Do you want to know why?”

“It doesn't matter.” the thief mumbles. “Why aren't you-” Vaan demonstrates by bucking his hips forward to meet Vayne's cock. The man holds him down gently. Again, they've done this before. He expect little differ- “Vayne, _please_.”

Vayne's eyes widen. He exhales, now deprived of air and more.

“ _Vayne_.”

The man breathes and rest his head onto Vaan's shallow chest.

“It doesn't mean anything.”

He isn't sure who he's talking to now. Himself or his sins.

“You- too. So can we-”

Vaan needn't to say any more.

Vayne slicks himself up and retakes his seat. His thick cock grinds against the lubed hole. Then he slides in. Slowly. Loudly. Galbana prefers sex to be fast and rough. But to take Vaan like this, it couldn't be a hasty rut. The thief's inner walls parts easily for him, conforming to the shape of Vayne's long shaft pushing further in.

Vaan's breath hitches, his body arching and hands gripping to his shoulders.

The heat inside the thief is all-consuming and all-powerful and sweet. Vayne hilts inside and enjoys the moment, this rare gift. He doesn't deserve this, he knows. He hasn't earned it. Vayne hasn't truly confessed his sins. He hasn't made efforts to those languid thoughts and besides this moment of allowed weakness, he cannot.

His plots must be carried out. Forgiveness is the last thing on his agenda. Not appealing to his lover for the sake of returned affecti-

"Stop thinking and _fuck me already_!"

As Vaan wishes.

Vayne rocks into Vaan, dragging his cock along his quivering walls. He takes his time, learning the thief's body all over again. What makes him gasp and what makes him moan. The girth of his cock forces Vaan's rim to clinch and clutch at his shaft. Vayne rolls his hips, making sure he leaves no spot untouched. Vaan throws his hips up, catching every thrust Vayne gives.

This isn't how they normally have sex. This is bizarre, intimate even.

The pace is unhurried and wonderful. Vayne pushes in. Vaan pushes out. Their chest slide against each other, wet with sweat and pre-cum on the thief's end. They kiss, messy and hot. Lips touch. Breath spills. Vaan rubs restlessly against his chest, a silent demand. His nails claw, neat half-moon impressions marking the man. Vayne relishes in it. Wanting more. Needing absolution. Vayne kisses Vaan's forehead. Then he takes. The man yanks the thief's lanky frame until it folds neatly for him. The thief is forced further onto his back and Vayne plunges in from a new angle.

Vaan cries out, his feet kicking at nothing but air.

Vayne kisses it away, keeping those moans only to himself. He is selfish in all things. He is uncaring in all things. But not this. Never this. Vayne hilts himself all the way in and skims with his thrusts. He is dragging out his orgasm and speeding the thief's. His thickness makes contact with bundles of sensitive nerves. Vayne entreats them, driving in against them with haste.

Vaan says something.

“You-”

But Vayne is too distracted by the best way to pleasure him to catch all of it.

The thief weakly holds out for a few seconds before he cums, shooting a splash of white between their two bodies. Vayne doesn't stop his thrusting, instead he eases his pace. He takes Vaan's cock and pumps it, rousing the softening cock into service. Vaan becomes all groans, half-words and half-moans. Not a understandable word among them. In no time, the thief's cock fills up with both blood and seed and Vayne has him again and again. Pushing Vaan to the very edge, white essence seeping down his oversensitive member.

“Vayne. _I-_ ”

Such words. Vayne trembles, weak and love-stricken.

Vayne feels his balls tighten and his cock twitch with fullness. He cannot hold back any more. Vayne throws himself into the moment. With vigor. He submits. He submits full heartedly. Vayne gives in and releases, cumming hot and hard into his lover. Into the two of them. Galbana and Vaan. His vision blackens out and all of Vaan clenches around him, forcing him into a weaker second orgasm. He pants and sighs. Vayne collapses but takes effort to keep most of his weight off Vaan. He doesn't deserve-

Vaan touches his hair.

“I love you.”

It is a sleepy murmur, a meaningless confession.

“I love you too.”

But it is alright for now. Alright for this morn.

Vaan snuggles into his side and Vayne doesn't mind the warmth. He clings to it. Happy. In bliss. They stay together, knees entangled and hands brushing until Vaan sleeps, gone. Vayne watches him go and the mask slide back into face. He kisses Galbana and welcomes today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing is about Vayne and Vaan's relationship is that this is how they prefer it. 
> 
> But uh, seriously, Vayne was hard to write because he's a warmonger. 
> 
> He doesn't feel sorry for what he did. He doesn't do guilt. He does action. The Dalmascans could tie him to a stake and he'd stay true to the very end. But Vaan is the sort of person that could (and their relationship is) sway him. And he both hates and love that. How I write Vayne is that he's very single-minded and driven. He lives for his vision a greater, stronger Archadia. 
> 
> But it's all too easy for him to change his focus to Vaan and that scares him. 
> 
> However, I'm not trying to romanticize their relationship. It's self-serving in that feel-good/feel-hurt way. I'm actually planning to rewrite the entire series as a original story. It'll take some time (and I might not do it at all) but it's something in my writing queue. 
> 
> So I'll see ya then.


End file.
